


come back to the water

by basedfran



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - 'Mermaids', Gen, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, but nothing weird or triggering i think, non-binary fuuta, trans boy fran
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basedfran/pseuds/basedfran
Summary: Lambo and I-Pin are looking for their very own coming-of-age adventure, Fuuta's looking to stay alive while hiding a mermaid from some guys with guns, and Fran just wants to learn how to play guitar.





	1. Ocean View

**Author's Note:**

> idk i just felt like writing a 'mermaid' au. this is going to be my relaxation fic, the fic that i write when i cant write anything else, so updates will be irregular. chapters may be long or (like this one) short. rough beginning since im in a rut, but please wait for chapter two i swear it wont suck lmao.
> 
> ALL CAPS REMINDER THAT FUUTA IS REFERRED TO WITH THEY/THEM PRONOUNS IN STORY EVEN THOUGH THEY GO BY SHE/HER AND HE/HIM WHEN TALKED ABOUT BY OTHER CHARACTERS! just making sure y'all know so there isn't any confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "edited": 2/27/18

The soft chords above weave gently through the water to his ears, rather than cutting through it like his own song does.

Where his song is cold and demanding, the notes that float above his favorite cave every so often are sweet and warm and seem to be soaked in longing, innocent desire. A song begging to be allowed a taste of something rather than demanding what the singer believes is rightfully theirs... it’s freakish yet interesting.

He supposes that’s why he comes here everyday. There isn’t much in this world that piques his interest after all, so whatever new interest he finds always seems to consume him.

As Fran pushes off the slab of rock he had been lounging on, he wonders once again what the human creating that music could be longing for. He breaches the surface before he can go through all the possibilities.

The sun is especially hot this day, even as it sinks lower and lower in the sky with the evening’s arrival rapidly getting closer.

It makes it its mission to cook whatever skin Fran exposes to its rays. Forehead already burning, slowly turning boiling red, he keeps the surface of the water just under his eyes and swims towards the rocky cove before him.

Pulling up close to the short, jagged wall of dusty orange boulders, he listens.

“ _...Like a river flows, surely to the sea... Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be..._ ” the human sings, voice barely above a whisper despite there being no one around to be shy of. Their words are accompanied by an odd, yet pleasant twanging.

Fran notices, in his place pressed against the blazing stones, that the human has gotten better at ‘twanging’ (as Fran has no idea what to call this unfamiliar musical phenomenon) since they’ve started coming by, at least by Fran’s standards as he’s not really sure what the right way to twang is. All he knows is that the twanging has started to match their singing more, and that it’s much more enjoyable to hear.

‘ _It seems interesting. I kinda wanna try._ ’ he thinks, though he has no idea where to start. He doesn’t even know what a twanger looks like, spending everyday only listening to the human’s and never daring to steal a glance. He’s usually more daring, but it’s the death penalty for anyone stupid enough to get caught by a human and (though he doesn’t particularly _love_ living) Fran would rather not die just yet...

But it is tempting.

“ _Take my hand..._ ” The twanging grows sweeter as the human continues to sing. Fran can _just_ taste the sound. “ _Take my whole life too..._ ”

A peek couldn’t hurt if it’s only once, if it’s really quick. It would only take a second really. Just long enough to see what a twanger looks like.

“ _For I..._ ”

Fran grips the edge of the rocks and slowly begins to lift himself up. He won’t necessarily have to climb to sneak a look, but the rocks stand at least a foot above the water’s surface, so it’s a bit of a stretch.

“ _Can’t help..._ ”

The heat sealed in the rocks nip at Fran’s palms. The skin on his back quickly bubbles as it greets the sun. He knows he’ll have burns he won’t be able to explain when he gets home tonight. Squalo’s sure to cuss him out.

As he inches closer to the top, he wonders how he’s survived this long without any impulse control.

“ _Falling in-_ ” With one big tug, Fran pulls his head up above the rock line and the first thing he sees are wide, brown eyes.

‘ _Ah._ ’ he thinks as the human opens their mouth to let out a scream. ‘ _I get it. It’s because I’m supposed to die right here._ ’

* * *

Fuuta’s so startled by the creature in front of them they drop their guitar (their _baby_ , the thing they saved for months to buy) on the rocks, its strings crying out in pain as it lands roughly against the boulders. Their pick flies out of their hand, dropping to the water with a would-be satisfying _Plop!_ as Fuuta scrambles backwards on their butt.

The creature, a smooth skinned being with an almost-human face, dives down head first back into the ocean, a dazzling green tail flicking up from under it before quickly following its head into the icy water.

Everything, save for the gentle ocean waves lapping at the side of the rocky cove, is still.

Fuuta licks their lips as their heart hammers quietly against their chest. They get on their hands and knees and pad over to the edge of the rocks, carefully bypassing the guitar, trying hard not to make a sound.

Swallowing the spit collecting in their mouth, they peek over the edge.

They’re in perfect sync with the creature, who resurfaces right as they look down.

It hesitates, only the very top of its head in view, before lifting its head up so its shoulders are in view.

Taking a closer look, the creature is definitely abnormal, but not necessarily _frightening_.

Its hair falls from its head in wet, green tendrils, the dripping ends barely kissing its thin, pale shoulders. The sides of its slender neck are decorated with six flapping gills, three on each side. Its nose doesn’t protrude out like a humans, instead melting in with the rest of its smooth skin, only a small bump visible where its thin nostrils sit. Fan like flippers sit on either side of its head, as if in place of ears.

The white of its eyes are nonexistent, its milky, green irises ending only where their dilated pupils begin.

It's sort of cute in a creepy kind of way. Fuuta can’t help but find it a little adorable, even when its gaze makes a chill run up their spine as they lock eyes once more. Its gaze is dark and deep and unyielding. Looking into them, Fuuta feels as though they’re swimming down into deep water.

Eyes never leaving its gaze, they see the creature lifts a slender, pale arm out of the water in their peripheral vision.

In its webbed hand, sat a thin, blue rounded triangle. Fuuta’s guitar pick.

“Are you-?” Their voice cracks and they have to clear their throat. They lick their lips, mouth suddenly chapped and dry. “Are you... trying to return it?”

The creature glances at their palm then Fuuta then back again to their palm. After a moment to consider its options, the creature shuts its palm and dives back down into the sea.

“Oh-Hey-!” Before Fuuta can worry about whether they’ve scared it off, the creature returns, this time with a small, pink mollusc shell the size and shape of a screw. It holds the shell out towards Fuuta in its palm, nodding its head towards it as if urging them to take it.

Fuuta lets out a nervous chuckle. “That’s pretty, but you were right the first time. Could I have that back?” they ask, pointing at the creature’s other hand, which still held their pick.

The creature glances at the pick and pulls it close to its chest. It holds out the shell more insistently, swimming a little closer to the rocks. Its cold fish eyes bore deeper into them.

They blink, breaking eye contact, and lay down flat on their stomach, letting their arm hang off the rocks, dipping into the water. They let out another shaky chuckle. “You... want to _trade_?”

It nods.

Fuuta sucks in a shocked breath. For some reason, despite speaking to it normally as if it were another person, they didn’t actually think it would be able to understand them. “Um...” they lick their lips again and look around. No hidden cameras or people around.

This isn’t a prank, and if they misjudge how harmless this thing is...

They bite their lip and nod.

“Yeah, okay, let’s trade.”

Curiosity killed the cat, and Fuuta can only pray it doesn’t kill them.

They reach out, but the creature, eyes dilating until they’re almost completely black, seems to remember something and snatches its hand away, shifting a couple feet back in the water.

It stares at them, gills flush and shoulders tense as if suddenly realizing Fuuta might be a threat.

Fuuta throws their hands up, trying to show they’ve nothing up their sleeve. “It’s okay. I won’t get close then. You can...” They think for a second before slowly letting down their hands and cupping them together, holding them out over the rocks. “You can throw it. I’ll catch it.” Maybe. Their hand-eye coordination isn’t that great.

The creature looks like it doesn’t believe them either. The little lump their nostrils sit on shifts up a bit, as if it’s wrinkling its nose at them.

“It’s fine. If I drop it, you can have the pick for free.”

The word ‘free’, for some reason, makes the creature perk up.

Without a second thought, it sends the shell towards Fuuta with one sloppy underhand toss.

To both their surprise, it lands neatly in their hands.

The feeling of the shell hitting their skin, the point digging into their left palm for a moment, tells them this isn’t a dream.

They pull their hands back and sit up, inspecting the damp shell in their hands with wonder, as if they haven’t seen thousands just like it over the course of their short life.

“Thank you.” they say as they glance back up, a little breathless.

The creature gives them a hesitant nod in return.

“You don’t talk much do you?”

The creature, of course, says nothing. It does open its mouth for a moment, revealing rows of tiny, needle-like teeth, but then snaps it shut, pursing its lips. It lies back, eyes still locked with Fuuta’s, and bobs along with the water, resisting the tide just enough so it isn’t sent crashing against the rocks by a particularly strong wave.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to talk.” they say, speaking as if this weird sea creature would be insecure about being a little asocial.

They pull their handkerchief out of their breast pocket and carefully wrap the shell in it before stuffing it all back in. Their eyes never leave its eyes, and again, Fuuta can only see milky, green irises.

“Uh, I don’t really know what to do at this point.” they admit, letting their hands fall into their lap. “Should we introduce ourselves? I’m-”

About twenty or thirty feet back, near one of the cove’s land entrances, something thuds against the rocks, letting out a scream.

The creatures bony body tenses and it dives down into the water, swimming down until even its shadow disappears from view. “Hey, wait!” Fuuta calls much too late.

With the creature gone, they look back towards the direction of the sound and can see some figures in the distance. Humans, probably, judging by their silhouette. They can just make out parts of their outfits. Khaki shorts and cabana shirts.

Fuuta shivers as they blindly grab for their guitar. ‘ _Oh no._ ’ they think, finally wrapping their hand around the instrument’s neck. ‘ **_Tourists._ ** ’

Securing their guitar strap on their shoulder, they rush to the exit in the opposite direction, glancing back at the water just once.

The shell in their pocket feels heavy and hot as they hike up the cove towards the road home.

Patting it through their shirt, they wonder if they’ll ever see that little critter again.


	2. Ocean View (Side B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this seems familiar, its because it is. this is the last part of the first chapter reposted as its own segment. im playing with the style right now, so sorry to trick you! the real next chapter should be up by the end of the 27th. (though, i never really do what i should, haha)

“Would you look at what you did? They’re gone now!” one of the tourists snaps at his companion as he adjusts the hat on his head, not offering to give him a hand up. 

On the ground, his friend glares up at him before checking his arms. There’s a new gash on his right elbow and another one running up his left forearm. Blood runs from the open wound, dripping onto his khaki pants and the rocks beneath him. He winces as a wave crashes against the wall beside him, sea salt spraying into his open cuts. He gnaws on his lip to keep from screaming, a bit of frustration bubbling in his stomach. Perfect. More injuries for his pathetic collection.

“As if I  _ wanted _ to get banged up  _ again _ .” he snaps, before lifting himself up onto wobbly legs. The rocks aren’t sturdy at all and, coupled with how naturally clumsy he is, they’re basically a literal pathway to disaster. He can feel them shaking under his weight, as he straightens up, gazing out at the patch of water the kid and the beast just were.

The sun sinks into the water slowly. The water becomes a deep red as the sun begins to blend into the ocean, creating a sea of blood. He squints as he checks the water for any sign of the water beast, the day’s last remaining sunbeams reflecting off the water into his eyes. He should’ve brought his sunglasses.

“It’s not anyone’s fault but your own that you can’t walk properly.” Hat Man says breezily, slipping on a pair of shades as his friend watches out the corner of his eye, oozing with jealousy. He stares out into the water, wondering if the little beast they spotted might appear if he looked long enough. He can’t spot even a bubble. “So now what? The kid’s safe, but that little monster is gone too.”

Boo-Boo Arms sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Set up a schedule to monitor the area. It’ll come back eventually. The sightings date back a couple months, and it seems to be trying to lure people to the water in a secluded area. It’ll be back after a couple weeks of hiding.”

“Right, ‘boss’.” Hat Man salutes him mockingly.

Boo-Boo Arms sighs again as he turns around. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shuffles back towards the road they came from. “Don’t ask me what to do if you’re gonna be an ass about your orders.” he mutters, leading his ‘friend’ away from the cove.

Walking with their back towards the sea, they don’t notice a head of green hair poking up from the scarlet waters, scanning the rocks for something (or rather, someone) before sinking back down into the water in disappointment.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or something please, i love them no matter how long or short they are! but be gentle with the con crit lol, i know its not that great, but im havin a rough time irl and needed to write something fun or else id never write anything ever again. ill edit this to be prettier later lmao


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